


A Beautiful Morning

by Puolukka



Series: Colorful Path [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hangover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puolukka/pseuds/Puolukka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur wakes up after a reckless night of madness, and Alfred takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beautiful Morning

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble I wrote some months ago.  
> I just wanted to start with something simple, so I used the ever-so-pleasant fluff theme.
> 
> (Pardon for my poor English.)

_Too bright._   
  
Although the curtains were closed, the sunlight managed to reach the bed where he was laying. The weather was nice even if it was midwinter, a sight almost unknown by the Englishman.   
Since it was still pretty early, he decided to sleep a bit more, last night Alfred really threw a bloody huge party. The booze ran out right away and the effects were oh so clearly visibile that morning. His head hurt, dammit!   
  
“Good mornin' sunshine!”   
  
_Just bloody perfect, ugh._ The door slammed so hard against the wall that plaster dropped all over the floor, as an annoying lucid-mind American trotted in the room.   
  
“God Alfred, would you please not burst in so suddenly and leave my peaceful morning quiet!” was the muffled reply of the angry hangovered Englishman as he was squished among the fluffy pillows.   
  
“Aww, already uptight first thing in the morning?”   
  
“Go die, twat.”   
  
It was really too much for him. His headache was getting worse and worse and that stupid useless of an Alfred wasn't helping _at all_. The bed wobbled under the pressure of said American as he idly rubbed his head.   
  
“Are you okay, Artie? You really did drink yesterday, I'm sure you're totally worn out, I told you not to join Francis and the others in their how-much-can-you-swallow-'til-the-orgy-starts contest.”   
  
“Shut up, I'm not in the mood to make elaborated sentences, nor simple ones so just do me a favour and stop ruffling my hair already!” he shouted, though was too weary to get mad to Alfred, after all his rantings were ineffective against him.   
  
Indeed the American kept smoothing his messy blond hair uncaring of his partner's glare.   
  
“You should relax, dude. Seriously it's not good for your health and hangover, just let me take care of you!”   
  
“No way I'm going to let you _look after_ me-” the sentence was left half-done as Alfred abruptly turned him around and gently kissed him on the lips. It was a simple peck, nothing much really, yet it felt _good_.   
  
“So? What were you saying?” Alfred chuckled seeing the priceless expression on Arthur's face.   
  
“Y- You- why did you do _that_!?” he indignantly spurted.   
  
“What? Can't I even kiss my boyfriend? Should I pay or subscribe to something to cuddle you? Such a stingy man you are...”   
  
_You're dead_   
  
As Alfred was (still) laughing at his own (idiotic) statement, Arthur wrapped his arms around his neck and trapped him against his chest. The American tried in vain to free himself from his boyfriend's steel grip.   
  
“Wah- Artie you're choking me!”   
  
The more he tried to free himself, the harder the grip was. After what seemed hours, Arthur released a desperate needing-of-air Alfred who coughed several times as he glared at him.   
  
“You tried to kill me, Artie!” he cried, his hurt puppy's eyes were like a _shot_ to the Brit.   
  
He leant forward and tenderly pecked him as he _smiled_.   
  
_Smiled_.   
  
“OMG you're _smiling_! That's a _miracle_!” he brusted out loud and bloody _beamed_ as if the sunlight wasn't just enough! A blasted sparkling one even!   
  
“You so-” and again he was interruped by two juicy lips and a silky tongue which licked him asking for access. He would have pursed his lips and rejected his wooing, but it felt oh so good and his body needed more so he just plainly let it slide inside his mouth.   
  
The deep kiss longed enough to let them both in need of air. Alfred's smug grin was rather annoying, but he didn't care much especially when a steaming cup of tea was placed a inch from his nose. _Green tea_.   
  
“It was really thoughtful and unusually kind of you to make me tea...” he said warily but still with a hint of surprise.   
  
“Well I kinda thought that it'd be nice since you passed out on the floor after those several rounds of Ale and Scotch. I also had to take you to the bed.”   
  
So, okay maybe he exaggerated a little last night, but he couldn't turn down a drinking game against that sodding forg, really. Alfred knew how much he enjoyed beating up his frog-arse, though it seemed he's always the first to give in.   
  
Well might as well.   
  
“Thank you, Alfred. I suppose it's not much, in fact I will make sure to repay your uncharacteristic kindness later.” he chuckled.   
  
“What about now?” the American said as he took away the cup ('cause he didn't want an angry tea-stained brit) and snuggled up close to him.   
  
“What are you doing!?” he sputtered but the only response was a light sigh and warm arms around his waist.   
  
“I'm tired and you have a headache so the best way to fix our problems is a healthy nap.” he yawned and when he felt loving hands rub his hair and a steady warm breath close to his nose he knew for sure that it was a really beautiful morning. 


End file.
